


Different Languages (But I Understand You All The Same)

by 4ce_in_sp4ce



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Character Study, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29931087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4ce_in_sp4ce/pseuds/4ce_in_sp4ce
Summary: Extraction was full of broken people. But perhaps, every once in a while, their broken edges were less like shards of glass and more like puzzle pieces
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 37





	Different Languages (But I Understand You All The Same)

Eames was bad at relationships.

He was excellent at flings and affairs, brief periods of passion and high emotion where you put your most romantic side forward. He knew how to have fun, how to make his partner feel special and wanted as they both rode the rush of excitement. He had always been good at that. Better than most, he was willing to reckon. 

It was the comedown that he was bad at. The quiet calm after the passion began to cool. Eames had stared down the barrel of guns both in dreams and real life with barely a blink, but there was something in the tentative step from a fling to a relationship that frightened him. He was a forger, a man who wore masks and disguises and personas for a living, and those personas had long since stopped being restricted to jobs. The idea of dropping the layers of masks he wore for long enough for another person to get to know him was terrifying on a visceral level that made Eames recoil from even the thought. 

So he ran. Reinforced his defenses at the first sign of authentic intimacy and pulled away. He pushed his partners away until they finally grew tired enough of trying to bridge the gap he kept widening to simply give up. It had gained him a reputation over the years- fun but flakey, an adventure but nothing long term. Good for a fun few weeks or months, but nothing more. He wore his reputation the same way he wore his various disguises, using it to cover how adrift and unmoored he felt in the quiet of a settled relationship. The whirlwind of chaos was where he felt at home and it was simply easier to let his partners leave when they decided they wanted something quieter than to try and adapt to the silence itself.

But Arthur didn’t leave.

Eames had felt his dread grow in a way it never quite had before as the excitement of their first few months together began to fade. It grew as he pushed Arthur away just like he had everyone else, mixing with self-loathing because he didn’t _want_ Arthur to leave. There was something wonderful about the way Arthur looked at him, about the feeling of having Arthur’s attention and focus directed at him, and Eames didn’t want that to end. It had to though. Because eventually Arthur’s attention and focus would see through Eames’ layers to whatever core he had and he couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t handle the pain of Arthur seeing whatever his true self was, a person Eames wasn’t even sure he recognized himself anymore, and still leaving. So he resisted Arthur’s attempts to draw him in and pushed him away with a panicked urgency that he hated.

But no matter how hard he pushed, Arthur wouldn’t leave.

He certainly pulled back. Every time Eames pushed Arthur took a step back and gave him space, but he never left. And when Eames had calmed down, when his panic at the offer of intimacy had subsided, Arthur- steady, grounded, unshakeable Arthur- reached back out. It was never anything major, no grand gestures or bold declarations. He never made ultimatums or demanded that Eames bare himself. He simply reached out, waiting patiently as Eames inched closer and closer to being able to reach back. Arthur stayed even as Eames felt his disguises slipping, vulnerability showing through cracks in his masks, and suddenly the calm quiet didn't seem quite so frightening. It was still new and strange and difficult to navigate but every time he began to feel adrift Arthur was there, reaching out with a steady hand and simple gestures to ground him. 

He smiled as Arthur set a cup of coffee down on the table next to him. He had no doubt it was exactly the way he liked it; that had been one of the first ways Arthur had reached out, a quiet assurance that he was there and listening even if Eames had been afraid of what that meant. Arthur kissed his temple lightly as he sat down beside Eames. “How’s it coming?”

Eames sighed, looking back at his notes. This job was proving more difficult than he’d anticipated, and figuring out his forge was quickly turning into a royal pain in the ass. “It’s…coming.”

Arthur laughed quietly, opening his laptop back up. “That’s something, I suppose.”

“How’s it going on your end?”

“It’s fine.” Arthur shrugged, pulling whatever document he’d been going through before he’d gone to get coffee back up. “There’s a lot to parse through, but it’s not too bad.”

“Well at least one of us is making progress.” Arthur laughed again and Eames smiled. Spending the rest of the afternoon trying to hammer out the details of his role was far from the most pleasant way he could spend the day, but Arthur’s quiet company would go a long way in making it better. 

Arthur’s hand was resting on the table by his computer and after a moment Eames reached over and slipped his hand into Arthur’s, smiling as Arthur intertwined their fingers and squeezed his hand gently. He didn’t understand why Arthur had continued reaching out even as Eames had pushed him away, but that Arthur of all people had decided to keep trying- had somehow decided that Eames was worth it- filled Eames’ chest with warmth every time he thought about it. And being able to reach back knowing that Arthur would still be there, steady and solid as he’d always been, was more beautiful a feeling than he ever could’ve imagined.

XXX

Arthur was bad at relationships.

He was a planner and an organizer and he compartmentalized his emotions in much the same way he organized information when researching a job, setting them aside and focusing on information that was easier to process and understand. On objective facts and impartial data. It was an excellent skill to have as a pointman; there was a time and place for emotions, and on a job simply wasn’t it. The underworld of dream sharing was violent and volatile and the ability to approach it with a distant impartiality allowed him to work with an efficiency and effectiveness that others lacked. 

It made navigating interpersonal relationships more difficult though. Arthur preferred working with facts and figures because he understood them. They made sense to him in a way that the emotions he set aside never had. But relationships weren’t made of facts and figures. They were made of complex and messy emotions and the compartmentalization that had served him so well and earned him respect for so many years suddenly put him at a disadvantage. The same words that had been ascribed to him as a pointman- distant, calculating, unaffected, cold- were suddenly thrown at him with an anger he didn’t know how to respond to.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care. He _did_ care, sometimes painfully so. But caring and being able to _express_ that he cared were two very different things. Years of violence and building walls to protect himself and closing off his emotions because that was what you did to survive in the world he lived in had created a gap separating him from others that he didn’t know how to cross. He tried. He tried to express that he cared and show an openness and vulnerability that felt frighteningly foreign to him. To reach out across the gap in whatever small, quiet ways he could, over and over and over again in the vain hope that maybe he could get something across. But it was never enough. He was too distant, too aloof, too cut off, and eventually whoever he was trying to reach decided he wasn’t worth the trouble of waiting.

But not Eames.

Arthur had looked desperately for some way to cross the chasm he always found himself on the wrong side of, for some way to express his feelings in the way that other people demanded. He’d _liked_ Eames. Liked the way he laughed, the way he held him, the way he looked at him and seemed to see a person rather than just a useful asset. But the words and motions other people used to express that felt awkward and uncomfortable and _impossible_ and all Arthur had been able to offer were the same small gestures that had never been enough. So he’d stood on his side of the gap and offered them, trying to ignore the sadness of knowing that they wouldn’t be enough this time either. That no matter how Eames looked at him now, in the end he wouldn’t be worth the effort and Eames would leave all the same. 

But Eames didn’t leave.

Eames, who lived loudly and expressively. Who was able to put emotions to words in ways that Arthur had never been able to and expressed them with an ease and clarity that Arthur had always envied. He’d accepted Arthur’s gestures without demanding more, letting Arthur express himself in the quiet, wordless way that had always felt more comfortable without pressure. Arthur hadn’t always understood Eames’ reaction but he’d kept trying, wanting so badly to make himself heard and worried each time that this would be the one that drove Eames away, that he’d reach out only to find no one there to reach out to anymore. Eames had stayed though. He’d stayed as Arthur tried to close the gap, expressing the things Arthur couldn’t find words for and never asking for more than Arthur had been able to give. And when the words finally had come, slowly solidifying into something Arthur could express more concretely, Eames had been there to hear them. 

He hummed happily as Eames came up behind him, slipping his arms around Arthur’s waist and pressing a kiss against his jaw. “I’ve always loved you in this suit, darling, you know that?”

Arthur chuckled. “You say that about every suit.”

“Well, that’s because you look good in all of them. It’s not my fault you look so bloody handsome in everything.”

Arthur tried to hide his smile, but he knew the blush he could feel rising in his cheeks gave him away regardless. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Eames.”

“Mm, maybe.” Eames kissed his jaw again before resting his chin on Arthur’s shoulder. “I don’t plan on stopping any time soon though.”

Arthur leaned his head against Eames’ as he went back to sifting through the various papers on the table in front of him. The silence was comfortable and familiar in a way that it had never been with any of his previous partners, both of them content to simply let the moment sit quietly. When he finally finished sorting the documents Arthur turned, leaning back against the table and resting his arms up around Eames’ shoulders. “Did you still want to grab dinner after this?”

Eames grinned at him. “Been looking forward to it all day, love.”

Arthur couldn’t help but smile back. “Me too.” Gentle warmth spread in his chest the way it always did when Eames looked at him with the fond expression he currently had, like Arthur was something to be treasured. “Have I told you I loved you yet today?”

Eames’ grin widened. “You have.”

“Well, I’m telling you again. I love you.” The words had been difficult for him to say at first, but they came now with the ease of the objective facts Arthur spent most of his time focusing on. He supposed it was only fair; it had long since become just that for him- an objective fact. He loved Eames. He didn’t understand why Eames had stayed, but Arthur would tell him that every day for as long as he was willing to listen. “More than anything.”

Eames’ expression somehow grew even fonder. “That makes two of us, darling.” He leaned in, kissing Arthur gently. “I love you too.”


End file.
